


All of Your Freckles and Both of Your Wings

by misha_collins_butt



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Dean's Freckles, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Fluff, Drunk Sex, Fluff, Fluffy, Freckle Kink, Freckle!kink, Freckles, M/M, Not non-con, Smut, Wing Kink, Wings, angel!cas - Freeform, destiel smut, human!dean, just drunk, kind of?, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4006972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_collins_butt/pseuds/misha_collins_butt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turns out, Cas helped to create Dean - snuck off to the human factory and plunked out the most perfect baby he's ever seen (or that's how it happened according to Dean). And then he waited. On his perch in the clouds, watching that Winchester boy grow up. Helping him through childhood and adolescence and finally showing up when the human needed him most, when he couldn't resist any longer. And now he curls his giant wings around Dean, and counts the man's freckles for the billionth time, already knowing the exact number. He helped create Dean, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All of Your Freckles and Both of Your Wings

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine

Dean smiles and looks around the feathery sphere of black.

"It's dark in here," he whispers and Cas grins at that comment; Dean always makes it, but it's comforting to hear it again.

"I'm sorry," Cas replies rather unapologetically, tapping his finger against Dean's chest. His ear rests on Dean's collarbone and he lies with half his body on top of Dean's, half on top of his black wing, which is tucked beneath his and Dean's bodies.

"No you're not," Dean mumbles against Cas' hair disapprovingly, obviously trying very hard not to laugh at the feeling of Cas' finger tickling his sternum.

Cas breathes in deeply before shifting up onto his bent arm, leaning further into Dean's chest and craning his neck to gaze lazily at Dean.

"Now, what's that look for, huh?" Dean inquires, his chin squishing into his neck as he cranes his own head to look down at Cas.

The angel sighs and kisses the edge of his human's jaw, grinning when a new smattering of blonde freckles slowly surfaces there. That doesn't always happen, only when he wants it to. And damnit, does he want it to.

"I don't know. I just really, really love your freckles," he nuzzles his nose into Dean's neck and let's his following words slip out without thought. "I'm so glad I decided to put them there."

His heart falters and skitters to a dead stop and his stomach drops when he realises what he's just admitted to and Dean is silent for a very long time, indicating he must fully understand what that means for him.

"What," his voice is quiet and harsh, and Cas peeks up to find Dean's features trapped in a shocked type of emotionless state, flaccid and unresponsive.

"Dean. I--"

" _What_...did you just say?" He finally glances down at Cas with narrowed eyes and Cas' wings shudder and fold back, scampering away from the situation.

Damnit all if his wings don't always seem to give away what he wants so desperately to do.

He remembers how they immediately pulled forward toward Dean when he first met the human in Hell, but he hadn't had much time to contemplate their strange behaviour, as he had been on a mission to get Dean the hell out of Hell.

And now they give him away once again, preceding their legend as they stretch farther back than he thought possible toward the door to the motel room.

"Dean, it's not what you think," Cas finally responds and Dean works his jaw, then scoots away to the edge of the bed, throwing his legs over the side and resting his elbows on them, hunching over his knees.

Cas, now holding himself up defeatedly with one arm, reaches across and runs his fingers over Dean's back. The hunter only twitches away and stands. He doesn't turn around when he speaks again, his jaw obviously clenched as he tries to suppress his anger.

"Cas, did you make me?" Dean says, his voice almost eerily calm.

"Well..." He lets out an exhaling sound and turns his head away, finally dropping his hand to the bed. "Yes, but Dean, you have to understand--"

"I don't...have to understand anything, Cas," Dean finally turns and Cas kind of wishes he hadn't because the betrayed look on his sullen face smacks Cas across the cheek. "So...you-you...what? Broke into the God factory and started up the human machine with an order for blonde hair, a pair of green eyes, and some freckles and out popped baby me?"

"That's not how it works--" Cas tries but Dean doesn't seem to care.

"I don't...give a fuck...how it 'works'. Cas, you made me...for _what_?" Dean spits, his features contorting with a rage that Castiel never wants to see on his face again. "For your own personal amusement? Because you were bored? Because you already dated all the other guys up in the God house so you wanted your own dream human to play with?"

"Dean, please listen--"

"No! Cas! I won't listen! I won't! Because... because I'm not even my own person anymore! None of who I am comes from... me! None of my personality is because of what I chose and what people around me have molded me into, at least not coincidentally! Because obviously you must've altered that too! Right?! To get the perfect ken doll for your dream house?!" He takes a shaking step forward and points at himself, his lips twisted into a snarl. "My want to create my own personality isn't even my own, is it."

"Dean! Would you shut up for five fucking seconds, you arrogant asshole!" Cas explodes, now sitting up on the mattress with his hands balled into fists. Dean gets quiet, but not necessarily because he's obeying Cas. Rather, he seems to have been shocked into speechlessness, a stunned silence that rides atop his shoulders, clamping it's hands over his parted lips and holding his wide eyes open. Cas speaks more calmly now, trying to keep the situation from getting too out of control. "Dean, I did take part in the creation of both Winchester babies. Specifically and especially you. You were a very high interest of mine. I got to see your future, and the million ways you could have grown up, the way you indubitably would because of certain circumstances that were unable to be changed. That way was and still is under the title of "Not the Greatest Way to Grow Up" and I still fell in love with you from the moment I saw that future, from the moment I watched it reeling in my mind. There were so many better ways for you to grow up, so many other hunters and regular people out there that were to grow up in much better ways than you, and yet I chose you. And my destiny to be the one to drag you out of hell was not mentioned in the...uhm... 'film'...so don't you dare think that's the reason, and don't you dare think I felt obliged to love you. I loved you on my own. And it's true, certain events in your life that shaped you as a person were tampered with, but not by me, and certainly not to guide you into my arms." Cas scrambles out of the bed and stands before Dean, slipping his arms around the human's waist and his wings around Dean's body, and tilting their foreheads together. "Don't you dare think for a second I want you any other way, that I made you to be perfect or that I made some kind of secret change for my benefit...other than the freckles. That _was_  actually my idea."

"I don't...I don't know what to say..." Dean's voice cracks and his slow exhale tickles Cas' nose.

"Say that you believe me when I tell you that I watched you grow up, that I sat there in heaven and kept an eye on you the whole time. That I very discreetly helped you, and sometimes your brother...when Gabriel wasn't around...through your roughest years...and that when you weren't looking or when you went to sleep after a tough day at school, I would kiss each of your cheeks and make new freckles and then watch delightedly in the morning when you noticed them in the mirror and scowled or when Sam pointed them out and you scowled harder. That I never once paused to question all the seemingly poor decisions you made, knowing that, someday, this is exactly who you'd turn out to be, and, like I said, I wouldn't want you any other way," Cas says quietly, admiring the man's bright olive green eyes, the ones he worked days on, mixing the prettiest blues and browns and yellows he could find. He's still proud of them, unashamedly.

"Well, sorry Cas, if this is a little too much for me to take in right now," he whispers in return and Cas' lungs stop working, his guts coiling up and making him sick.

He pulls his eyebrows in and frowns, his lip trembling as he tries not to let the tears threatening his eyes spill over.

"What do you mean?" He asks, trying not to sound as broken as he is.

"I-I just...I need some time...to think," Dean explains, pulling away and raking his fingers through his thick, spiked, blonde hair, courtesy of his truly, Castiel the selfish-ass angel. "I just need...some time to absorb the fact...that my _boyfriend_ , of all fuckin' people...played a role in making me."

Dean holds up his hands and walks away, his eyes rolling across the floor as he finds his way to the door.

"Dean--"

"I can't right now, Cas...I just..." Dean shakes his head as he stands in the doorway and swings the door shut without another word.

Cas drops his arms and hangs his head listlessly as he falls back onto the bed. His wings flutter and sink down around his body and he doesn't get up.

~~~~~~

Dean stumbles back in four hours later, buzzed and red-eyed.

"Cas?" His voice scurries across the room and Castiel's head lifts slowly, eventually pointing in the direction of Dean, and his wings flutter upward, almost knocking over the lamp on the bedside table. "Cas. Baby, I'm sorry."

Cas musters the strength to furrow his brows at the seldom used nickname and watches Dean amble across the carpeted floor to the bed. He crouches in front of Cas and takes one of the angel's hands in his own, lifting the other to Cas' cheek. Black wings curl forward around Dean, because, no matter how disappointed with Dean Cas gets, he always has the instinct to protect the human.

"For what?" Cas asks, genuinely confused by the apology.

"For walking out like that. For getting mad. For not realising you didn't...just make me...or whatever...for your own personal reasons. I thought..." Dean croaks, his voice hoarse, his ability to speak at all obviously bordering on Herculean. "I thought I was mad at you - I mean I was...I was mad at you...but I shouldn't have been. I thought you created me solely for the purpose of keeping me as your own, playing with me like some doll in a princess dollhouse..." He exhales sharply, his hand sliding forward and his fingers tangling in Cas' mussed hair as he shifts forward and sinks his lips into Cas'. The kiss is gentle and sweet and apologetic and Dean's fingers find their way from Cas's hand to his face, playing gently over his cheek, seeking comfort in Cas' stubbled jaw, the one Dean is used to and seems to find so much security in being able to feel. And Cas' right wing pulls Dean even closer. "I'm sorry--"

"It's fine, you're fine. Just shut up and kiss me," Cas rushes, shaking his head, his entire body trembling and his hands kneading at Dean's jacket, repeatedly grasping at it, and his wings pulling tight around both of their bodies. "Just fucking kiss me."

Dean's green eyes twitch between Cas' lips and his own blue ones as the hunter nods his head, before he shoots forward again, attaching their lips and weaving his fingers into Cas' hair. Dean gently lowers Cas back onto the bed, minding the wings, and Cas lies back without hesitation, allowing Dean to crawl up on top of him.

Cas feels Dean's hand brushing through the feathers of his left wing and gasps, mouth hanging farther open than it had been previously.

"I love you," Dean murmurs, his mouth leaving a wet trail over Cas' jaw, down his neck, across his collarbone, down the centre of his chest, still concealed by the fabric of the Black Sabbath t-shirt he stole from Dean and made a fuss about giving back when Dean whined that it was his favourite shirt. And through it all, Dean's hand grabbing at feathers and his mouth unable to swallow the moans his hand elicits because his lips are occupied by other skin.

Cas can't reply either, because Dean's slipped his other hand beneath the hem of Cas' - Dean's - shirt, and he's pushing it over his stomach so slowly and Cas can't concentrate enough to think up a coherent response. And Dean's lips are finding their warm way across Cas's abdomen and, oh God, he can't breathe, because damnit, this human's enchanted him, captivated his entire existence. And he never thought he would fall so recklessly for someone like this but he knew, deep down, what he was getting himself into, what situation he was putting himself in, when he created this beautiful man and decided to be his indefinite guardian - indefinite because there were supposed to be other matters to deal with up in the fluffy clouds that the humans think is heaven.

But he got himself into this mess anyway, and he doesn't think he'll ever want out.

Because, now, Dean is tugging Cas' shirt off gingerly - Cas uses his 'mojo' to weave the shirt around his wings as Dean pulls it up - and discarding of it so carelessly; reaching back over his head and slipping off his own shirt and throwing it across the room along with Cas'. And he's replacing his hand in Cas's black wing and brushing through it hungrily. And he's drinking Cas' body in so greedily, his dark moss green eyes circling over the angel with a predatory, appraising regard, devouring him, taking all of him in.

"My God, you're beautiful," Dean breathes, shaking his head and rolling his hips and kissing Cas' jaw and whispering his hands over Cas' ribs - like they're a secret, like no one can know what happens between them, like the world doesn't already kind of understand that they're too perfect for eachother - and doing anything he possibly can to distract Cas from the fact that he's currently slipping Cas' belt from it's loops and throwing it back over his shoulder.

"Dean, you're drunk," Cas announces, knowing it's obvious and being entirely unable to care. And apparently Dean feels the same way, because he only grapples a few feathers in his hand and tugs lightly, making every single one of Cas' muscles tighten.

"Never stopped us before," he mumbles - _tries_  to mumble - as he latches his lips on around a pebbled nipple and swipes his tongue over it, making Cas shudder so violently he has to grab the bedspread.

"I'm just saying--"

"Shut up, angel," Dean is drifting further and further down, his lips leaving a dotted line behind, marking his path, and finally, _finally_ , he gets to Cas's twitching cock, and he mouths at the fabric-confined appendage.

"Yes, sir," Castiel taunts and Dean digs the fingers of his free hand into the angel's thigh, eliciting another shudder.

Dean makes quick work of the button and zipper on the black work pants and yanks them down past Cas' ankles, and Cas can't help the gasp that escapes his lips as Dean's fingers creep beneath the elastic of his comically large boxers.

Dean pulls the undergarment down and Cas' dick jumps up and slaps against his belly, pounding and begging Dean to touch it, and Cas grunts at the lack of friction and at Dean's other hand still playing through his wing.

"So hard for me, angel," Dean breathes, his air puffing out over Cas' member, lips so, so close. "Gonna make you come so hard for me, baby. Gonna make you come just for me." He growls, eyes still hooded, and his lips brush up and down the shaft of Cas' cock, allowing an extended exhale to tease at the heated flesh. "You're mine."

"Yes, Dean," Cas agrees, compliant and willing and wanting, his back arching up off the bed with hard breaths. "Please. Please, Dean."

"'Please' what, angel."

"Please, Dean, I want...I want you. I want you inside of me," he whines and his hips buck up into the human's lips which whisper up Cas' shaft. "Fuck. Please."

"You know what's even better?" Dean's breaths are slurred and Cas looks down to find the bottle of lube already disposed of on the pillow to his right and he sees Dean's discarded jeans on the other bed and Dean's arm reaching down and Dean's hooded eyes and realises what's happening.

 _Oh_.

"You inside me," Dean answers his own question and rolls his hips into his own hand, letting out a breathy moan that skitters across Cas' cock and makes him take in a sharp breath.

"Oh, God, yes. Please."

Dean removes his finger from his own hole and the springy mattress bends beneath his hand as he crawls up over Castiel's body to level his face with the angel's.

Dean leans down and kisses him, hand still pulling at feathers that have wrapped around both of them again, and something sparks inside the angel - a spark that builds itself into a burning flame and then a bonfire and he feels a new urgency, a new bravery inside of him that he can't seem to tame without acting on it.

When Dean pulls back and speaks again, breathlessly, Cas decides to do what his body is telling him to do.

"I'm sorry, I'm not quite sure I heard th--"

Cas clutches at Dean's waist a little tighter for only a fraction of a second before he's throwing Dean down on the mattress and then rolling over to straddle Dean's hips all in one fluid motion that might seem practised to anyone else but is just pure angelic coordination and strength. Wings shift with the movement and are now standing out at Cas' sides at half of their full length, almost glowing with Cas' menacing power.

"I don't beg, Dean," Castiel growls and Dean lets out a happy moan, stifling a smile.

"Now this is what I'm talkin' about," Dean whispers and Cas is confused for a second before he realises Dean wanted to bottom from the start, and he grins wolfishly at the human.

He snatches the lube from the pillow, spreads a generous amount over the first three fingers on his right hand, then crawls down between Dean's legs, lifting each and resting one on each shoulder.

Cas watches Dean's face triumphantly, wings pushing forward and encircling the human's body, as he slides the first two fingers in right away, twisting them and scissoring them, working Dean open and reveling in each delicious little buck of his hips.

"Oh, God. Cas. Please- oh, shit! Right there!" Dean cries out when Cas twists his fingers just right and brushes over the human's prostate. "Cas. Baby, please."

"I'm sorry," Cas spits, mocking Dean's earlier taunt, "I'm not quite sure I heard that."

"Cas--"

"Say it again."

"Cas please--"

"Louder. _Beg_."

"Cas, oh God, please! Please! Want you inside me, Jesus. Cas," Dean rambles, his back arching off the mattress again and again as he struggles to catch his breath, and his hands grasping at the first thing they can find: Cas's wings.

"Good," Cas whispers, trying to suppress his gasp, and with that, he fits in a third finger, without warning, and Dean nearly screams.

"Oh, God. Oh, God, Cas, that's so good. Fuck."

"You're gonna come for me. Dean, I'm gonna make you come," Cas gets very close to Dean's face, his lips just a tickle against the human's stubbled jaw, and it seems that the only answer Dean can give is a choked sound of consent as his hands leave their nest of feathers and skim up Cas' back to find the base of the angel's wings. Cas nips at the edge of his jaw, at the very back of it, invoking a low groan, nips at his earlobe and at the burning skin behind his ear. "I love you." Just a breath, dripping from lips pressed against Dean's ear.

And before Dean can answer, Cas sits back up, runs his lubed fingers over his dick a couple times, then lines himself up with Dean and pushes in slowly. His wings curl forward and so does his body, nearly crumpling into a pile of useless angel at the feeling of being inside Dean.

Both men let small noises resembling moans escape their mouths, and Dean's lips hang open and his head falls back into the comforter, his hands catching in black feathers again.

And it doesn't take long for either of them - with Cas pounding against Dean's prostate each time and Dean clenching up around Cas - and Dean comes with a strangled moan and Cas comes with Dean's name biting his lips.

Castiel collapses against Dean, chest heaving hard and hands shaking harder.

"I think...I can like...my freckles..." Dean says between breaths, hooking an arm around the angel's shoulders and pulling him across the small gap between them, bringing Cas against him so Cas is rolled over onto his stomach and half on top of Dean. A wing flops haplessly over Dean's body and another somehow tucks itself beneath Dean and they're inexplicably in their starting position from the beginning of this entire mess. "Especially now that I know who put them there."

Cas smiles into Dean's bare skin, and his lips pucker outward and press a kiss to the sweaty flesh at the base of Dean's neck.

"I've always loved them," he whispers into Dean's throat and Dean chuckles.

"I can tell, angel."

"Why do you call me angel, squirrel?"

"I don't know, maybe because _you're an angel_. Why do _you_  call me squirrel, angel?" "Because as much as I hate Crowley, he's great at choosing nicknames."

Dean sort of snorts and grins with the silent laughter Cas has always loved about him.

He smiles too, pulling his tired wings even tighter around his human and nuzzling into Dean's neck. He peeks up after a few moments of silence and begins counting the freckles again, starting from where he left off before this entire adventure.

"Ninety-three, ninety-four, ninety-five, nine--"

"Cas? Are you...are you counting my freckles?" He can hear the idiotic smile stretching itself across Dean's lips.

"Of course. I was doing it earlier too," Cas admits.

Dean is silent for a while and Cas thinks he may have messed up again, his wings tugging Dean even closer in the hopes that Dean won't up and leave again.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Keep going," his voice is quiet and adoring and Cas lifts himself up on top of Dean, searching the human's incredible eyes, confusion evident in his own. "Seriously. I wanna know. It's not like I have the time to count them myself."

"On your face, there are two-hundred-thirty-seven freckles. On your entire body, there are five-thousand, five-hundred and sixty-two freckles."

Dean's mouth gapes open at an inhuman width and he's silent again for another long period of time. But the look on his face isn't angry...just...surprised.

"You...you already...I mean, of course you already know, but...but Cas..." Dean sits up to the best of his abilities with an angel in his lap and Cas gives him the room to do so. A smile drapes across the hunter's lips. "How many times have you counted?"

"Since we met or since we...started being more than friend?" Cas tilts his head and Dean's obvious amusement makes Cas squint.

"Um...I guess since we met."

"One-thousand, three-hundred and fifty-three," he deadpans which is somehow even more amusing to Dean, made evident by the way the human's eyebrows pull up and he lets out what seems to be an amazed laugh.

"Holy shit, Cas."

"What, did I say something wrong?"

"No," he chuckles and brings one hand from Cas' hip to his cheek. "No, buddy, I just...that's...that's incredible. Impressive, I mean...wow."

"You seem at a loss for words so I'm just going to kiss you again because I don't like when you mumble." Dean barely gets the chance to answer in any way whatsoever before Cas is clutching his cheeks and moving his lips gently against the hunter's.

When he finally pulls back, Dean out of breath and wearing a sated grin, he allows his own smile to make an appearance.

"I love you, Dean Winchester. I wish I could say I'm sorry for the freckles but," Cas chuckles softly presses a kiss to his human's nose, "I like them too much."

"Made evident by the fact you are sitting on top of me, wearing nothing but your birthday tux and a pair of the most beautiful wings I've ever seen," Dean retorts, hands finding Cas' bare chest and coming to rest there without missing a beat.

"I rather enjoy seeing you naked, though. And underneath me," Cas smirks knowingly at his own teasing and leans forward to add in a whisper, "I enjoy it a little too much."

Dean bites his lip, still smiling and a comfortable silence falls over them before Dean speaks again.

"I love you too, Cas. Castiel, my short, grumpy little Angel of the Lord. My trenchcoat wearing, cat loving, honey bee obsessed baby," his smile is small and affectionate and he kisses Cas' lips softly. "I love you a lot."

"Good."

They share grins and Cas starts counting freckles again in a hushed voice, pressing kisses to Dean's cheeks every once in a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I apologise for any mistakes and in case anyone seems OOC.


End file.
